


If I Saw You Again

by shakingshoulders



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Pete Wentz - Fandom, Ryan Ross - Fandom, Soul Punk - Fandom, brendon urie - Fandom, patrick stump - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Brendon Urie - Freeform, Frank and Gerard are just mentioned tho, Frerard, Happy Ending, Pete and Patrick (Fall Out Boy), Peterick, Ryan Ross - Freeform, Ryden, Sappy, Soul Punk, Soulmates AU, i don't even ship Ryden, just pretend it's brallon if you want, mostly peterick, oKay this is overused but I put a twist on it, patrick stump - Freeform, pete wentz - Freeform, so's mikey, title from Allie by Patrick Stump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:59:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6558508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakingshoulders/pseuds/shakingshoulders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete Wentz met Patrick Stump in the April of 2004, and after 8 years he figured he would never see him again, until his friend Brendon made him believe that miracles may really exist. The summary sucks. Soulmates AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Saw You Again

Meeting Patrick Stump was the most disappointing day of Pete Wentz's life. 

And it wasn't Patrick's fault, not really. Pete had been dragged to a bar show just outside of Chicago by his friends Brendon and Joe, who were meeting up with some kid and his friends at the concert. 

They got there after the music started, and Pete flicked his jet black bangs out of his eyes to scope the scene and get a feel of the people who were there. Joe brought over a couple of beers, and Pete subconsciously glanced at the timer on his wrist, a tiny ticking 8 years, 1 month, 23 hours, 3 minutes, 17 seconds staring back at him. 

Meanwhile, Brendon's face went pale, and the he nearly dropped the drink he was holding. His wrist had buzzed, revealing a bold 25 seconds. He started wildly combing the crowd, feet frozen by shock when he heard another guy shouting and bursting through the loitering people. The two boys locked eyes as their timers dinged. "H-hi," Brendon stuttered. "I'm Brendon."  
"Ryan," the other man returned. He was taller than Pete, which wasn't really saying much, with brown hair and matching brown eyes.. He was gangly and sort of awkward, but behind the surprise on his face clearly spawned by the situation, Pete figured he could probably be pretty hot if he tried. 

Brendon smiled, and turned apologetically to his friends before heading over to the bar with Ryan. Just then, two other figures approached Pete and Joe. A guy about Pete's height with mousy-brown hair and blue eyes hiding behind silver glasses. He was wearing a Slayer shirt, and a black hoodie paired with baggy jeans. He bro-hugged Joe, who introduced him as Andy Hurley. Pete recognized the name, he was pretty sure he was the drummer from Project Rocket or maybe he'd filled in at a few Arma shows. 

The other boy was far more memorable. He was short, even shorter than Pete, wearing a blue casual button down shirt and a black trucker hat. He had strawberry blond hair and long sideburns, and the most striking eyes Pete had ever seen. He couldn't decide if they were emerald or baby blue, because they were never both, but flicked back and forth between the two with a bat of his long eyelashes. 

"Pete," Joe said. "This is Patrick."

"Hi," said Patrick.

"Hey," said Pete. 

And that was it. Pete's timer didn't go off, and neither did Patrick's, at least he presumed, because his arms were self consciously crossed over his chest. 

They made small talk for awhile, but Pete made it awkward, probably because Patrick noticed him glancing at his lips in the middle of their deep conversation about the importance of Japanese candy. Patrick wandered off, and Pete met back up with Joe and Andy to talk about the music they all listened to, and played. 

The band played a long set, and Pete went out the back door to cool off for a minute. When he opened the rusted door, to his surprise, a boy was standing there, who of course, was none other than Patrick, who nodded curtly at him before glancing back at the pavement. "Hey," Pete exclaimed before thinking twice. "Wanna play a game?"

"What?"

"You see, I'm in the business of gaining trust. We both know the other can't stand that show in there."

Patrick shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"Tell me a secret."

"You're a stranger!"

"So?" Pete took a step closer. "Who would I tell?"

"Doesn't matter." Patrick hesitated. "Like what?"

"Tell me about that timer on your pretty wrist," Pete's voice was low, and he'd gotten so close Patrick could feel his breath on his neck. 

"Well I was hoping it would go off sooner."

"Hm?" Pete was breathing on his neck now, sending shivers down Patrick's spine. 

"I was kicking myself," he gulped. "Because I wanted it to go off earlier. In the club, when we met."

That's all Pete needed. He pressed his lips to the side of Patrick's neck, but never formed the whole kiss, just stood there, resting his head on his shoulder. "I want to know everything about you."

"I want to tell you."

Then, just like that, Pete was grabbing at the door handle, disappearing back into the bar and leaving Patrick standing in the alley, red faced from the cold and scarlet flushed with embarrassment. 

~

A week passed before they met up again. Joe had insisted they go out for drinks at Andy's party, and there in the moonlight on the porch when they arrived, was the boy with the sideburns, eyes glowing blue. Pete figured he could be blinded by the light hitting Patrick's bright eyes.

The night was a blur of drinking and loud music, and Pete's world was spinning until he ended up in an empty hall, dimly lit, where he was confronted by Patrick, wearing a black t-shirt and the same hat  
from their previous encounter. "How old are you?" Pete inquired.

"Nineteen," Patrick pushed his glasses up. "Well, nineteen on the 27th at least."

"So eighteen? Good," Pete nearly whispered.

"Good? Wh–" 

He was frozen by Pete's lips meeting his with a passion, but forceful at the same time. They moved together in synchronicity for what felt like years, but was really but a few seconds. Patrick thought he could build an empire within the time frame of Pete's lips pressed against his. Pete noticed Patrick's eyes were true blue. 

They lost each other in the crowd that night. Pete didn't think too much of it, he'd see Patrick soon, but little did he know that that brief encounter would be more precious than he ever would've imagined. 

In the fall of 2004, Joe came off his gap year, moving to Michigan to attend college. They lost contact, as Pete moved to LA along with Ryan and Brendon to pursue his idea for a clothing design company. They rented out a 2 bedroom duplex, right next door to their future friends Frank and Gerard, and Gerard's brother, Mikey. 

Pete's store, Clandestine, was a pretty big success, and by 2007 his hoodies were in Hot Topics and Spencer's across the nation. Work was long, but he liked his original store in Hollywood. It felt like home. He never really stopped thinking about Patrick, and it stung so much that he had bought five or six bracelets just to cover the ticking timer of his wrist. He didn't want another soul mate. He didn't want it to be anyone other than the kid he had met in a bar 5 years prior. 

But one day in the spring of 2012, everything changed. Pete was at the counter of his store, when a wild-eyed Brendon burst in, with a flier and a few tickets in hand. Pete sighed, he was sick of accompanying Brendon to his shitty concerts, or giving him advice on where to take Ryan. "Pete!" Brendon was ecstatic.

"What's up?" Pete rolled his eyes. 

"DUDE! Look what I just got back stage for!" He shoved the poster in Pete's face, who, regaining his composure, made out the words, in bold letters over the picture of a blond guy he recognized from somewhere. 

PATRICK STUMP  
SOUL PUNK TOUR  
SPRING 2012

He was older, matured, thinner, and frankly, hotter, but it was him. Pete knew it was him, his eyes glowing green as Pete remembered them. He nearly burst into tears. "Bren! I love you so fucking much dude!" Brendon embraced him tightly, whispering "it's tomorrow," in his ear. 

The next day, Pete applied his eyeliner shakily. He wore a red Clandestine hoodie and blue jeans ripped in one knee. His heart was beating a mile a minute as him and Brendon pulled into the parking lot, and passed the line, flashing their VIP passes to a guard in the front, who escorted them to the "artist area" for the sort of meet and greet that went in before the show. 

And there he was, stating there smiling widely at the fans awaiting him. Patrick, wearing the same smile he had been 8 years ago. 8 years. Pete remembered too late the significance of the date. 

Suddenly, he heard all of the fans surrounding Patrick scream as his timer went off, buzzing to mark 25 seconds. Pete's heart stopped as he did the same, pushing his way frantically through a hundred or so girls checking their wrists for dates. 

Then he saw him. Patrick peered quizzically at Pete, and right as a flash if recognition washed over his face, their clocks stopped ticking, and they collided with enough force to burn out the sun. A teary-eyed Pete was relieved by the feel of Patrick's own salty tears blending with his as their skin connected. "Pete," Patrick sobbed. "Pete fucking Wentz I thought I would never see you again."

~

No one really had an explanation for it. No professional really knew why their timers hadn't gone off in 2004, but they were assured there had been previous cases where the same had happened. Many thought that sometimes soulmates crossed paths at the wrong time by mistake, before they were matured enough to know the truth. 

Pete and Patrick were married in June of 2013, and they soon moved out of the house Pete shared with Brendon and Ryan, and into a larger one in Studio City. 

Pete had nightmares, Patrick was always on tour, but somehow, they worked. They fit like a puzzle, and one night as Pete sat quivering from a bad dream, Patrick whispered to him. "You know," he was just barely audible. "Allie's about you. Get it? Allie? Like alley, where I told you I wished my timer would've gone off.

Pete turned over to face him, locking wide eyed browns with baby blues. "I love you so much."

Patrick rested his head on his shoulder. He felt like he was eighteen again. "I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! maybe leave a comment?


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